Next Thursday is going to mark something rather significant for us.
Will is scheduled to have surgery to have his adenoids removed and tubes put in his ears.
It's his first standard, ordinary, typical kid-type medical procedure.
And I'm not quite sure how to behave. Complicated medical stuff, I know. Regular stuff like this -- not so much.
Ususally when the hospital and doctors and nurses are involved, it's very sudden, unexpected and highly-charged. The prime example of that being when Will underwent brain surgery in the emergency room because his shunt had completely stopped working. Fucking scary, that. I was alone with Will, as my husband was on the road and my dad was recovering from his own emergency gallbladder surgery, with my mom needing to tend to his stubborn self. Whew. That was the day I decided that childrens' hospitals need to have some sort of progam to administer sedatives to parents, as I pretty much came unglued watching Will begin to malfunction. A salt lick of valium would be ideal.
Unnerving as it is, I've gotten used to that sort of thing. It's part of the package that comes with a little one with a complicated health history. Never totally complacent. Never totally comfortable. With anything.
So the fact that he is actually scheduled to have a surgical procedure is a new thing -- and I'm not really sure how to react. As with any thing involving a medical procedure and one's child, I'm naturally concerned and have been doing my homework. His doctor is well-regarded and apparently the prep and after-care take longer than the surgery itself. And it's a day-procedure, so no overnight stay is needed (hooray!). Sounds pretty cut-and-dry. Which is all music to my ears.
It's just interesting wearing the garb of the parent of a child undergoing a standard-issue operation. I'm not used to it. And I'm trying not to get too comfortable in it, as I know that my ability to wear it will be fleeting.
That's just the way things are.